Under the spotlight, Wang Yi leaned back on the bench with a towel draped over his shoulders.
He rested his hands on the backs of the chairs on either side and tilted his head back, breathing heavily.
The beads of sweat on his face gleamed like diamonds beneath the spotlight.
His eyes were closed.
The cheers of the crowd around him, the women's screams, and his teammates' excitement seemed to have nothing to do with him.
His first game back. Mission accomplished.
He had only one thought now.
Just let me lie here and rest without moving. Don't bother me.
He didn't even want to lift his eyelids.
His thoughts seemed sluggish amid the exhaustion washing over him from every direction, like the deep sea.
In a daze, he recalled his time with the Lakers.
It had been a game against the Jazz.
Everyone else had tactically given up, but he had kept fighting.
He still remembered lying on the floor during the post-game interview back then.
Although he was even more exhausted today, he wasn't as embarrassed as he had been that time.
At least he was sitting up.
He could sit and talk with the reporters during the post-game interview later.
That would be more dignified, too.
The cheering crowd and his frenzied teammates all rushed toward him.
But Mitchell and several security guards on-site blocked their way.
Rose, the head coach, and a few others also held everyone else back.
"Let him get some rest," the coach said.
The people around them quieted down.
They understood, too: Wang Yi desperately needed to rest.
Meanwhile, Meng Chao, a female reporter from China, had been assigned to conduct the post-game courtside interview.
During the final season before Wang Yi retired, the Kings had established an unwritten rule.
After every